


Something Left Unsaid (First Kiss)

by fyrefalcon



Series: fyrefalcon's 2019 setleth week [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21904246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyrefalcon/pseuds/fyrefalcon
Summary: Seteth finds Byleth in the ruined cathedral and he makes up for lost time. Five long years of lost time. Which he spent agonizing over Byleth. Of course.Or:What Byleth and Seteth SHOULD have done post time-skip.Church route. Assume spoilers for everything.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth & Seteth, My Unit | Byleth/Seteth
Series: fyrefalcon's 2019 setleth week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1577812
Comments: 10
Kudos: 138





	Something Left Unsaid (First Kiss)

The sunlight spilling through the broken cathedral ceiling illuminated a green head of hair moving tentatively through the rubble, and Seteth’s heart nearly stopped.

His first thought was that Rhea herself had returned to Garreg Mach Monastery. 

His second thought was that Flayn had done something strange with her hair. 

His third thought was the correct one: Byleth herself was standing in front of the demolished altar, and then Seteth had no more coherent thoughts--just a wave of emotion after emotion, moving through his body one at a time and then all at once: Regret. Sadness. Anger. Longing. Relief.

He knew he’d crossed the room because he was suddenly standing behind her, watching as she took in the carnage around her. 

She turned around, and he was at a loss for words--she was as beautiful as the day they had met, and more beautiful even, for all they had lived through together. 

Virtually unchanged but for the vivid hue of her hair and the determined, sad set of her mouth.

What he would give to undo time, as she could, and press them both back into more innocent years, when Byleth’s mouth quirked up more often than down and the cathedral was resonant with chant and chatter.

The sun streamed in behind him and illuminated her eyes, the perfect shade of green, the shade that reminded him that he was looking into the face of the one person in all of Fodlan who could share his long years. 

What he would give to spend lifetimes at her side.

“Hello, Seteth.” Byleth spoke quietly into the still air of the ruined cathedral. “So much has changed--and yet so little.”

Seteth found his voice. It was reverent. “How are you standing here before me?” He kept himself from reaching out to stroke her face. 

It had been five long years for him, interminable years, years where he’d recalled every second of every moment he’d shared with the woman before him, wishing for just one more breath, to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he  _ missed  _ her, tell her every truth in his heart--

Here was one more breath and then another... He waited for her to respond and yet did not break the silence with his thoughts. 

She closed her eyes. “I truly cannot say. I believe… I believe I’ve been asleep. These last five years.” She opened her eyes and met Seteth’s unyielding gaze. “The last thing I remember before wandering out of the river valley was Thales on the hilltop and Rhea, Rhea…”

Seteth could see the question in her eyes before she’d asked it. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Missing.”

Byleth nodded once, her curt little acknowledgement. “Who else has left us?” 

Seteth shook his head. “Dispersed, all of them. Except Flayn is here. And Cyril, of course. They will be so happy to see you.” 

_ As am I, Byleth. My dear. My love.  _

Byleth looked at him then, searching. For what, he couldn’t say, but he opened himself to her, let her look as long as she liked. 

Surprising him, she reached out towards him, pulling him into a crushing hug. He pressed his nose into her hair under the pretense of returning the embrace. He couldn’t remember ever being this close to her before, and yet it felt like they’d spent a thousand lifetimes just this way.

He felt her words more than heard them. “The first person I thought of upon waking was you.” 

Seteth’s heart caught. He was silent, again, waiting, unwilling to move and scare her away, to cause her to retreat back to whichever one of his wild dreams she’d emerged from.

She spoke into his chest. “I am so utterly relieved you are here.” 

He pulled back to meet her eyes. “I am also relieved--no, I am  _ overjoyed _ that you are unharmed.” He breathed, feeling his lungs fill completely for the first time in five years. “Byleth, we searched  _ everywhere  _ for you.” 

“I believe it.” She shook her head. “I don’t know that I was able to be found.” 

“We have so much to discuss. Edelgard--”

“I know. I saw her.” 

“Where--?” 

“Here. Just now. We’d made a pact, five years ago, to return on this day.” She sighed and her frown intensified. 

Seteth considered this, running the implications of that truth through his mind, letting it filter into what he knew of Edelgard and his assessment of her character. She had risked everything on a potential rendezvous with her old professor. Unfathomable.

Byleth shook her head. “I can’t believe it has to be this way.”

Seteth placed his hands on her shoulders, feeling brazen for touching her so openly in the broad light of day. “Nor I.” 

She looked at him. “I would choose anything but this. Anything...besides losing you. I will slay Edelgard a thousand times if it means I never fight to take your life, Seteth.” 

Again he said nothing. 

She continued, “I didn’t tell you this before I…slept, for so many reasons, least of all that there was never any time, but…” She pressed her open palm to her own chest. “Seteth, I felt the moment so acutely in my heart, the moment when I had to choose you and choose Flayn--or choose her…” 

Seteth watched as a single tear rolled down her face, and then he did reach out, brushing it away. 

“I can never forgive myself.” She drew in an unsteady breath. “I grappled with it for five years, while I slept, and I expect to live with it for five hundred more. I chose you, Seteth.” She looked at him, anguished. “I chose you.” 

“I forgive you, Byleth, and I thank you.” Seteth breathed in before continuing. “We don’t always get the grace to choose our fate among bloodless futures. I am...I am honored that you chose me. I do not take your decision lightly.”

She didn’t break eye contact with him as she responded. “We have to make the bloodshed worth it.” 

He looked back at her, intense. His response was a prayer and a promise. “We will.” 

Summoning every shred of bravery in his old, old bones, he bent forward then, and he kissed her, sealing his oath, pressing his lips to hers and feeling her knees soften as she yielded, as she became pliant under his touch. 

He’d imagined this moment for five years, hoping against hope, and here she was, alive and warm beneath him. For this moment, a miracle just for him.

Her lips parted for him, and she was supple, making sounds in the back of her throat--wordless, beautiful sounds--that rang in his bones like the old bells, clamoring like fire. 

He broke the kiss to breathe her name. “Byleth.” His eyes were closed, his forehead on hers, his body ringing with love and relief and urgency. “Byleth, will you return with me to my chambers? I have something I need to say to you that can only be uttered where we’re sure to be alone.” 

She raised her hand to his cheek, cupping it, breathing with him. “Yes.” 

He was exalted. 

“Yes, Seteth. I will come.” 

He turned, leading her out of the sun, into the darkness of the broken building, which was as silent as a crypt. They walked quietly across the rampart under the massive sky that stretched above them, the air still and absent the beating of wings, and up the stairs of the monastery itself, up and up, passing no one, until they were on the third floor. 

While Byleth had been invited into Rhea’s chambers in the past, she’d never before followed Seteth to the door across the hall, which opened into his own compartment: a room for him and for Flayn, a shared sitting room, windows overlooking the Officer’s Academy below. 

Wordlessly, he led her into his private room. Locking the door behind him, he sat with her in the two old chairs nestled between the window and the fire, the cozy reading nook that had been his respite since time immemorial. 

He breathed deeply. “Byleth, I have imagined this conversation more than a thousand times in your absence. I have considered every syllable of every word, prepared speeches, even drafted letters about what I might say.”

She nodded, reaching over to take his hand. “I’m here. I’m listening.” 

Her eyes laid him bare as he searched for the right words for the moment he was actually living. “We have so many uncertainties ahead of us, Byleth, and as I know only too well, there is no guarantee we will both survive the tribulations that even now bear down upon us.”

Byleth’s mouth set firmly, but she let him continue.

“We do not have the hours on this day for me to share every deep rumination of my heart, but I need you to know this: my feelings for you are not simply familial. They are beyond friendship.”

She smiled softly. “Well, I’d hope so.” 

Seteth’s cheeks colored, remembering their kiss. “They transcend my gratitude for your role in Flayn’s life, for your support of Rhea, even as flawed as she is. They--”

“Seteth, I know.” She met his eyes again, just as brave in love as she was in battle. “I’ve seen it in your face. I knew, before--” 

“You never said anything,” he breathed. 

“How could I? There was never any time.” 

He closed his eyes, regretful. “And still it remains in short supply.” 

“Yes. But there is time enough for this.” She stood before him, pulling him to stand in front of her. “I will not face our future without making it clear where my heart stands.”

“Byleth--”

“I know we cannot love each other openly, not while we’re at war--not while we have to work together to lead an army.” 

Her grip was firm, and Seteth’s breath was so still; he was so afraid to miss a single second of the divine gift that was this particular moment of his life. 

“I will not face death again without first facing you.” She reached out, brushing his cheek, tilting his face down towards hers. “Kiss me, Seteth.” 

He bent down and obliged her, pushing his fingers into her silken hair, cupping her head as he kissed her. Her lips were sweet, and hot, and soft. He felt her wrap her arms around him, drawing him close, and his heart nearly burst as it pushed heat through his chest one beat at a time.

“I am too old to feel this way,” he whispered into her hair. “You will be the death of me.”   


“You cannot die, not now, not when I am born here anew,” she replied. She kissed him again and he pulled her toward him, bearing her weight as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He could feel her heat through his clothing and was suddenly aware of how many layers were between them, separating them. “Byleth…” 

She urged him on without words, pressing kisses just above his collar and making his skin come alive with sensation, feeling the delightful softness of her mouth it alighted flame under his skin.

He carried her over to his bed. This part he’d imagined: laying her down so tenderly, pulling back just enough to see her green hair splayed over his pillow. 

His chest turned over, lanced for a moment with the anxiety of losing her again, losing her after this, worried that she wasn’t in her right mind: they should stop, they should slow down, they should--

“Seteth--I’m right here.” She met his eyes as she reached up, undoing the buttons keeping his collar flush against his neck. “I’m here, and I’m alive, and I want this too.” 

Her fingers were cold on his warm skin, and her touch awakened a current, magnetic and strong. She continued. “Stop worrying. _I_ _chose_ _you_. I can’t face this future I’ve created--that we’ve created--if I can’t be truthful about how I feel. If I can’t share this with you.” 

Her lips quirked as she leaned up to whisper in his ear. “Make me come undone.” 

He kissed her.

In all of his wildest imaginings, Seteth had never fantasized that Byteth would return his feelings. He imagined disclosing them and then...watching her, in the wings, as she navigated Fodlan to greatness. He had not been lying when he’d said he’d follow her wherever she’d go, but…

He’d never allowed himself to consider that she would love him in return. That she would want him, want this. He was nearly transcendent with arousal.

Having accomplished the buttons at his neck, she worked her way down his torso as he supported his weight above her. She fumbled with his belt and he leaned back to help her. 

She laughed softly and said, “Being asleep all those years must have impacted my dexterity.” 

He smiled. “I’m certain it will recover.” 

He removed his belt and Byleth pushed open his tunic, near desperate for his skin. 

The sound of need and satisfaction that emerged from her throat as her fingers pressed into his torso had his erection pushing at his seams--the friction was welcome and uncomfortable and it made him yearn for Byleth with an intensity that he had not felt for very many years. 

He sat back on his haunches, pulling her up with him, kissing her as he removed her collar, then her corset, reverent at the sight of her. He traced the old wounds on her torso with the tips of his fingertips, vowing to protect her from further pain. He pressed kisses into her collarbone, feeling the heat of her skin against him, silky and warm and welcoming. 

He passed his fingers down her arms, the softness of her skin contrasting with the strong muscle beneath. He held her as he mapped her body; she writhed under his touch until she was panting with need. 

“Seteth, please, please…”

He removed her shorts and her stockings, marveling at the creature in his bed. She watched him with lidded eyes as he removed the rest of his own clothing, his erect cock making his intentions so very clear. 

“Byleth, are you certain--are you certain this is your desire?” 

She nodded.

“If anything changes, say the word. I will stop at any time.” 

She met his eyes, tangling her fingers in his hair. “Seteth, I trust you. I want this. Please. I don’t want to ask again.” 

His breath was a benediction. “As you wish.” He pressed kisses down her torso, grazing her stomach with his fingers, flattening her nipples with his tongue before teasing them into stiff peaks once again. 

Byleth was so very responsive, and he felt so close to her, felt an echo of her pleasure and need pulsing in his own veins even as his own release threatened to overcome his reverent pace. 

“Please,” she begged, breathy and a little wild. “Seteth.” 

“Shhh,” he said. “All in time.” 

She pressed her palms against his temples, beseeching him. “I have already waited an eternity for this.” 

He smiled. “You have not waited longer than me.”

Even so, he allowed her impatience to guide him down towards the vee of her legs, and he spread her open then, feathering his fingers along her thighs, breathing in the scent of her, feeling the soft hair that curled along her outer lips. 

He parted her and slid a single finger along her slit, felt her wet for him, felt almost painfully aroused as he listened to her moan his name. 

Oh, so slowly he traced her in her most sensitive places, triumphant as she squirmed around his thumb, using the pressure of the pads of his fingers to create sensation along her delicate inner lips. 

She bucked her hips against him and he obliged her, firmly pressing his mouth over her clit, giving her something to grind into at last. She shuddered--the movement was echoed in her breasts in a most delightful way--and she propped herself up on his pillows so she could watch him as he pleasured her. 

He met her eyes, inserting his first two fingers into her warmth, watched her pupils blow out and her eyes darken with need. She keened then, and Seteth could feel the precum wetten his own dick, ready, so so ready, to be hilted inside of her. 

His eyes didn’t leave her face as he pressed his tongue against her, her body slick against his mouth. He pushed his fingers inside her in concert with his tongue, using both to drive her to the edge until she was panting with the intensity of it. 

When he could feel her tense around his hand, he pulled away, eliciting a moan. She opened her eyes, pleading, and in response, he braced his weight on his arms once again, covering her body with his own, pressing his mouth close to her ear as he whispered, “For this first time, I want us to come together. Will you allow it?” 

She nodded and then she kissed him, shocking him with her willingness to taste herself on him. Byleth was a brazen lover, and Seteth realized he shouldn't have been surprised. 

With her hand on his face, he shifted until he could press his cock against her, the stiffness of him taking over where his fingers had been just a moment before.

He met her eyes. “Are you ready, Byleth?” 

She breathed her assent and he pushed inside of her, spasming with pleasure and almost coming from the initial sensation of it. 

He buried his head in her shoulder and whispered, “Oh, you feel divine.”

She didn’t respond except to grind herself against him, and he could feel her tightness around his cock, both of them already so close to the edge...but also he’d waited so very, impossibly long.

“Byleth, I’m close, already--”

Her response was wordless, but affirming. 

“Come for me, my dear. Come for me. Byleth.”

He keened her name into the warm air of his chamber, shattering as she spasmed around him, curling into her reflexively with enough strength that he fought against himself for air. The waves of pleasure pulsed through him again and again and again, and as he emptied into her, he felt every muscle of her body relax, becoming supple and spent and soft. 

He was overcome by his love for her in that moment, and he drew back while still deep inside of her, taking in her beauty one heartbeat at a time. 

His hand once again found her cheek.

“Oh, Byleth,” he said, his voice aching. He let his head fall to her chest, felt it rise and fall. Noticed the curious absence of her heartbeat, too drunk on his own pleasure to let the worry of the truth of her--of the world they’d both inherited--shake him from his reverie.

There had been so many years, and so many things he had longed to tell her. 

And now, here, while she was joined with him and their mutual need had been exhausted, he knew--for the moment, at least--there was absolutely nothing left to say. 

***


End file.
